Do To Me Bad Things
by Opal Portia
Summary: He lies their, on his bed of silk.He has no idea that I am watching him... Harry fights and internal battle between what is right and what is sinfully wrong, as he watches Draco sleep...


**Do To Me Bad Things**

He lies their, on his bed of silk. Embraced by his covers, protected by his force- field of sleep. So peaceful he looks, in his land of dreams where even I can not reach. He has no idea that I am watching him and I feel like I'm seeing a secret part of him, unaware that all the while he is shutting me out. _'I want you.'_ A voice whispered from deep within Harry.

God, I know I shouldn't be here. He wouldn't have wanted me to have seen him like this- exposed; like a rose stripped of its petals. His bare shoulders are visible from beneath the quilt.

'_What are the odds of him being naked under those covers?'_ the voice was playful and seductive, Harry quickly shut his eyes as a shiver ran through him at the thought.

'_A little peek can't hurt, can it?_'

'No, I shouldn't; I won't.'

But seeing him like this; such a perfect personification of innocence…

'_Oh please, he is the devil incarnated,'_ the voice whispered _'and yet here you are again... you just couldn't help yourself could you?'_

'That isn't true, he doesn't control me!'

'_Then why, pry tell, are you here?'_

'I- I don't, I can't explain it but-'

_Oh spare me, you're here because you can't say no to him.'_

'That's a lie!'

'_Even in his sleep he controls you, weaving another one of his invisible webs.'_

'Stop it, he's asleep; he can't do anything.'

'_He'll capture you, he'll use you and abuse you, just like before and the time before that and the ti-'_

'I know… and I'd let him.'

If he woke up this very moment and caught me staring, I wouldn't run, I'd let him corrupt me again. 'How can a man so beautiful, so enchanting, be filled with so much darkness and _power_?'

His fragile face presses into the pillow, seeking comfort while, concealing half of those deceptive features I have grown so accustomed to seeing during the drawn out hours I've spent in his company. How softly the darkness caresses his cheek, veiling him in a shadowy darkness making him look mysterious and forbidden, where to touch is to taint and in so doing, tarnish your pride for being so weak.

'_He is dangerous.'_

He torments all who dare to look upon him and desire. But something is different here. I look at his posture, relaxed as ever it could be. A curled hand rests near his head while the other remains on his chest, rising and falling with each deep and even breathe. But still, this is not the man, whose very presence can derail my every thought, leaving me helpless, unable to fight the need that boils and burns in the pit of my stomach. The man who with a single lingering glance can set my veins on fire with a fever so intense, I physically tremble under the strength of its penetration and like a plague I'm consumed entirely. Not the man, whose gifted touch can set my nerve ends off in a frenzy of electrical pleasure as all my strength seeps out of me, stolen by his fingertips and lips, as he steals me with just one fatal kiss.

His eyes are shut, eclipsing those green orbs with lids of skin the colour of cinnamon and equally sweet. Oh, how I despise with adoration the taste of such forbidden pleasure, knowing its rich flavour, savouring the feel of its rough texture, when the chance promotes itself, in those moments when his focus is centred round pleasuring me so as to please him self through my unchained, display of ecstasy, as he restrains me with silk cords.

His knowledge of me is unlike any other lover I have ever had, he by far, outshines the rest of the class. Learning me like a piece of music, he has memorised every note, has learned the parts of me that are most sensitive and can pull me deeper under his spell. Like an improvisation he uses his knowledge to enhance the piece, making it unique every time. Without fail he reminds me of his claim on me, through the marks he leaves in areas which during the day I can hid, but never forget and before he strikes his final note that drowns me. Only to wake to the sound of his voice and the whispered promises he feeds me. Planting the idea of indulging myself again with such heavenly torture, keeps me wanting more. My uncontrollable need making me powerless to his advances during the day and his presence in my mind as it replays the previous night's performance, demanding my full attention at all time, causing the days to bleed into one other.

I know I shouldn't let him get to me like this, that he isn't to be trusted, that he is nothing but a bastard to me and my friends as he purposefully antagonises me with the snide comments he makes and I hate him for it, I really do. And I promise myself I'll stop this thing with him, that when he creeps up on me and snatches me into a nearby room and tries to kiss away my hate, I'll resist. But knowing that being with him is so wrong only makes me want him more. But that isn't all. He physically torments whenever he's around. I try to ignore the sparks of desire that rages through me and pretended to not notice when he brushes against me as we pass each other in crowded areas or when he leans over my shoulder to look at my notes when we are forced to pair up in Potions and he lightly runs his fingers over the bruise he left on my right hip from last night, or when I can feel his lingering gaze on me in class when know one else is watching. But it never lasts. He always finds a way to reel me back in his arms, under his spell and into his bed. It's all part of the control, the chase, the kill. And yet here, there is still something missing.

Suddenly Draco's head whips round as his body jerks in his sleep and he releases a pained whimper. Harry jumped at this sudden movement, startled by such an open display of emotion, so unlike Draco. And that's when it hit me. As I look at him now I have to force myself to remember what kind of a man he is, because to look at him now, I have no proof. His guard is down. I can't stand him like this. He's meant to be nothing but ice and shadows; a monster. But that cry was so human and… helpless.

'He isn't supposed to _feel_ anything. Malfoy's _don't_ show emotions and they don't feel, not like others feel. Not like me.'

Fear gripped at Harry's chest and he gasped as the realisation dawned on him. 'I don't understand, I can't stand here and look at him like this, this just isn't-' Harry's thoughts were cut off as he felt a sudden and sharp jolt of pain and he clasped his right hand to his chest in confusion.

'What the-'

That was all he managed before pain started to sear through his chest, inflaming his lungs. He gasped as he doubled over in pain. Harry's eyes started to water and he shut his eyes tightly against the relentless pressure that was beating through his chest. Beads of sweat started to form on his brow, breaking out into droplets that ran down his face and onto the carpet. He choked as he desperately trying to take in a breath, but failing as the pain increased, his throat became constricted, he was suffocating.

'What's happening to me, I can't… breath… Oh God… _oh God_…'

His legs were growing weak beneath him and his mind was beginning to slow as a thick dark fog began to grow within him, clouding his thoughts…

'Can't stand…need…to...'- his mind refused to work, robbed of all its oxygen, he couldn't think anymore and his consciousness was slipping as blackness engulfed him and he couldn't stand…up…

Harry heard a noise through the heaviness that sounded like his name being calles from a distance. But before he could even register what he'd heard, he felt a sudden rush of air whip through him so quickly and with such force that it thrusts his head back as he was pushed into a standing upright position. His eyes rolled back in his head as he felt his lungs fill with oxygen. The roar of the air around him stopped and his eyes slowly drifted open. The last thing he remembered hearing was a faint call of his name before he succumbed to the darkness.

'Harry?'

Darkness still reigned outside, covering everything in a soft haze. Harry turned over onto his side only to see Draco mirroring his position, lying in front of him and a pair of silvery/grey eyes staring back into his with a deep penetrating look that asked a question. Harry looked away. He could stand the flicker of worry that ran through that look. Draco shifted closer to him and Harry realised he was in Draco's bed. This revelation shocked him so much that he looked back at Draco, which was his undoing. As his sight landed on the vision that was Draco Malfoy all feelings of shock and sickness dissolved as he suddenly became aware of the proximity of their bodies. He couldn't turn away from those bright orbs probing him, searching his face at a distance of two inches. Harry could feel a familiar fluttering begin in his stomach as memories of Draco's touch started to fill his mind. Draco noticed the change in Harry and the confusion he felt from waking up to find, Harry standing at the end of his bed looking about ready to drop dead, was lifted only to be replaced with a knowing smirk at the desire on Harry's face.

Harry was so relieved to see that smirk that he almost smiled. 'There he is; the predator that I know.' Draco slithered even nearer to Harry, their bodies know touching. Draco's burning heat scouring his skin. He brought his face to Harry's, his lips a hair breath away from Harry's that had parted slightly in anticipation. Draco looked at his lips and then slowly back up at Harry, a playful yet challenging look in his eyes, daring Harry to resist him. Having Draco so close totally surrounded by his cinnamon scent, Harry once again felt like he was suffocating. Harry couldn't prolong this anymore. He latched himself onto Draco's bottom lip, hungrily sucking it into his mouth as his tongue lunged forward to taste him. Draco chuckled into the kiss before responding, bringing his tongue to meet Harry's as one of his hands wrapped around Harry's neck, while his left arm snaked around his Harry's back bringing him closer. He leaned over Harry, forcing him onto his back, placing his entire weight on him and as their lower half collided Harry moaned.

'_You shouldn't be here.'_ Those voices were back again

'_You're letting Hermione and Ron down by being here with, **him**.' _

'_That this isn't a healthy relationship Harry, not to mention what this must be doing to your sanity!' _

But I didn't care, because as I lay here, writhing and whimpering with need in Draco's arms, as he licks up the side of my neck and then bits down hard where my neck meets my shoulder, all I knew, is that I'd rather risk loosing all my friends, if it meant I could spend forever in this world he's made just for him and me.'

'Uhnnn… _Draco_' Harry moaned as Draco aligned their bodies and began to grind against him, rotating his hips at all the right moments.

'Christ, what a mockery of love we make.' Was Harry last thought, before losing himself completely in Draco, letting him play him to completion, under the cloak of darkness.


End file.
